Catholic lady who was
altogether a stranger to him, but who plainly knew all about him,
entreating him to call at her house when he was in the south again; her
husband, she said, had met him once at Stanfield and had been strongly
attracted by him to the Catholic Church, and she believed that if Anthony
would but pay them a visit her husband's conversion would be brought
about. Anthony could not remember the man's name, but Isabel thought that
she did remember some such person at a small private conference that
Anthony had given in Mr. Buxton's house, for the benefit of Catholics and
those who were being drawn towards the Religion.

The lady, too, gave him instructions as to how he should come from London
to her house, recommending him to cross the Thames at a certain spot that
she described near Greenhithe, and to come on southwards along a route
that she marked for him, to the parish of Stanstead, where she lived.
This, then, was soon arranged, and after letters had been sent off
announcing Anthony's movements, he left Speke Hall with Isabel, about a
fortnight later.

CHAPTER VIII

IN STANSTEAD WOODS

On the first day of June, Anthony and Isabel, with their three armed
servants and the French maid behind them, were riding down through
Thurrock to the north bank of the Thames opposite Greenhithe. As they
went Anthony pulled out and studied the letter and the little map that
Mrs. Kirke had sent to guide them.

"On the right-hand side," she wrote, "when you come to the ferry, stands
a little inn, the 'Sloop,' among trees, with a yard behind it. Mr.
Bender, the host, is one of us; and he will get your horses on board, and
do all things to forward you without attracting attention. Give him some
sign that he may know you for a Catholic, and when you are alone with him
tell him where you are bound."

There were one or two houses standing near the bank, as they rode down
the lane that led to the river, but they had little difficulty in
identifying the "Sloop," and presently they rode into the yard, and,
leaving their horses with the servants, stepped round into the little
smoky front room of the inn.

A man, dressed somewhat like a sailor, was sitting behind a table, who
looked up with a dull kind of expectancy and whom Anthony took as the
host; and, in order to identify him and show who he himself was, he took
up a little cake of bread that was lying on a